Salt Seed
by Baymoth
Summary: Death alone cannot wash the blood off his hands. At the end of the Fourth Shinobi War, Uchiha Obito is called upon to answer for his actions. [mpreg]


**Title:** Salt Seed  
 **Summary:** Death alone cannot wash the blood off his hands. At the end of the Fourth Shinobi War, Obito is called upon to answer for his actions.  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Pairing:** Kakashi/Obito (main)  
 **Warnings:** _Mpreg_ (not your cup of tea? Please press backspace), body horror, abuse, depression, issues of consent, politics  
 **Notes:** Please heed the warnings. It's there for a reason. This is not a happy story by any means. Obito isn't a very happy person to begin with. But my first feature-length(?) Naruto fic. Read and uh... enjoy :)

* * *

Gravity hits like the Jyuubi to his chest.

He. Can't. Breathe.

Only a hundred yards away, Kaguya wears a velvet red slash across her face in a ghoulish smile. Bones slide down from her wrists. Suddenly, they are sitting ducks in her pale, byakugan eyes.

The sharingan is no byakugan but Obito struggles to call up his last reserves. He barely has enough left after expelling the Jyuubi from his body. Looking for Sasuke had been pushing it. Twice the speed meant twice the chakra drain and it is not enough. Even as he squeezes the very last drop from the Shodaime's cells and his own tattered coils, he fears.

The bone spears punch the air with frightening speed, spiraling towards them in an inevitable arc. Kakashi covers him with his own body because he is an idiot and yells at his students to fall back, _that is an order_!

They miss. Thank god. Kaguya's lips pucker in disappointment as Zetsu wheedles in a childish whine, encouraging her to do it again.

A ripple snags Kaguya's left sleeve, unraveling the inseam.

Obito grabs the thread and rips that bitch right open, dropping Kaguya's arm and Zetsu in _lava_ before she can slam the portal shut.

Naruto cheers.

Hatred poisons Kaguya's expression and his stomach flops as the scenery melts back into the carnage of the Fourth Shinobi War.

She is too slow. Both Naruto and Sasuke press into her arms palms outstretched, completing the Sage's seal.

" _Heh_ ," he breathes, leaning into Kakashi's embrace.

He can die now.

But he doesn't die. Of course not because that would be too much to ask of a world that had taken everything else important to him.

"You saved me." Obito accuses when a familiar bob of pink hair comes into focus.

Sakura pins him with a dry look.

"Don't sound too enthused. It was mostly Naruto and Kakashi-sensei anyway."

 _Him_. Obito seethes. Kakashi was always getting in his way.

Before he can say anything, the door swings inward to admit a six-men Anbu cell. They shouldn't have. He barely has the strength to fight his way out of a wet paper bag though the idea is not without merit. Obito has been kept alive for a reason regardless of Ba-kashi's wishes. Let his captors' plans disintegrate to dust when he performs sepukku on the captain's sword. These are seasoned warriors unlike the one in the corner whom Sakura had cowed into submission with the sheer force of her personality. Bear, the captain, gives the guard a curt nod before addressing her.

"The Council will see him now."

"He's recovering. What's so important that it can't wait?"

Bear looks at his team, radiating disbelief. Turning around, he answers, "He will die on the way or few days from now. It makes no difference."

The hard words do not comfort Sakura in any shape or form. Obito swings his legs from the hospital bed, neatly capturing everyone's attention.

"Well?" he sneers, choking back bile as the room spins wildly like the tomoe of his sharingan eyes. "Shouldn't keep them waiting."

()

His limbs are inked indelibly to make sure he doesn't try to escape. Again, overkill. His Anbu escorts are courteous enough though they keep a hand on their weapon at all times. This is no civilian court he's been summoned to. Everyone halfway important to the village politics has turned up for the trial. Here and there, he sees familiar faces. Morino Ibiki, Dokuraku Mawashi, Namiashi Raidou and a Yamanaka girl. But no delegations from other villages. No kages, sans Tsunade. He doesn't know long he's been asleep in the hospital, kept vigil by Sakura and whomever thought his soul worth redeeming. But surely, it can't have been more than a week?

The Daimyo, on screen, clears his throat.

"Uchiha Obito, you are being charged with heinous crimes against the Allied Shinobi Nation. How do you plead?"

Obito beams.

"Guilty."

The council bristles. To the left of the screen, Koharu Utatane rasps, "Do not make light of this trial. Though the Hokage has pardoned you, there are those who would see you brought to justice. And it would be fitting to sell your head to erase the damage you wrought."

His eyes travel to Tsunade. Though his sharingan has been sealed, he makes out her flaxen hair clearly in the din. He wonders. Why would she speak up for him? Her of all people?

"So why don't you?" He asks scornfully. "It's the easiest solution. Kill me and the ninja nation are forever in your debt."

The judgement chamber falls silent. His stomach clenches nervously. This is not good. Whatever the old windbags are planning, he wasn't going to like it.

"Because if you don't," He goads, his voice dropping an octave. It's enough for bear to lash out with a blade, tilting his head back. A trickle of blood flows down his neck and he continues, "On my life, I swear I will cut you all down."

Tsunade snorts contemptuously, the first time she has expressed her opinion during this entire face.

"You're bluffing." She says. "Don't play games kid. You're a hundred years too early to face me."

"If you're both quite finished," Mitokado Homura snips testily, "We will now hear Uchiha's testimony on his part of the Fourth Shinobi War."

"Ah..." Obito breathes.

So that's why he hasn't got his eyes scooped out like ice cream. Power is attractive. It's why he's been kept alive for this sham of a trial.

He begins. He explains to them in smallest words possible so they can understand. Naruto may have brought him back from the brink but not even the cheery blond could fix his shattered belief in the system. Disappointment is bitter and he talks without a break, until his lips dry, crack and bleed red in his mouth, Tsunade ready to wring the truth from him even if she has to revive him over and over and over again.

Kaguya's plan spanned centuries. Twenty years is a mere blink of an eye.

"And here we are."

He bows his head, waiting for his sentence.

"So what will it be, those who wield the Will of Fire?"


End file.
